


Yes, Professor!

by NaughtySammyBoy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Did I mention Professor!Dean?, Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Panties as a gag, Professor!Dean, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6145687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtySammyBoy/pseuds/NaughtySammyBoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Winchester isn't too happy about your performance as a student, so you make it up to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yes, Professor!

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea. This was inspired by a fic I read on tumblr called "My Mechanic" but sadly, I can't remember for the life of me who wrote it because I'm a piece of shit lol so to whoever wrote that beautiful piece of work, thank you for being such an inspiration! :') (And such an original title, I know. I suck at being a writer.)

You stand by the open office door, gently knocking on the jamb as you pop your head in and say, "You wanted to see me, Professor Winchester?"  
  
The man in question spins around in his desk chair, his bright emerald eyes widening for just a short moment before a look of recognition takes over his face in the form of a frown, indicating that whatever he wants to discuss with you can't be good. "Yes, come in, Miss Y/L/N," he says in a stern voice, waving in your general direction, "And shut the door."  
  
You obey, stepping into his office completely and closing the door with a soft click, taking a deep breath before turning to face him again. You take a seat in front of his desk, crossing your legs and letting your hands fall into your lap, your eyes trained on the smooth mahogany before you.  
  
"Do you know why I called you here?" Professor Winchester's deep voice cuts through the tension-filled silence, his hands clasped together as he leans forward onto his desk, his eyes narrowed as they stare you down and his mouth turned down in frustration.  
  
"Um...no?" You reply, cocking an eyebrow and shrugging, "But I received your email to meet you here after class."  
  
"It's about your attendance," he states flatly as he relaxes back into his chair, "It's terrible."  
  
You scoff, rolling your eyes as you say, "I've only missed three classes; I'd _hardly_ call that terrible."  
  
"The school's policy specifically states that a student is only permitted two absences a semester," he reminds you, " _Excused_ , I might add. All three of your absences have been unaccounted for, needless to add that you've also gone one over the assigned limit given to you."  
  
"So, you brought me here to tell me you're going to fail me?" You ask sassily.  
  
"You've left me no choice, Y/N," Professor Winchester sighs, putting on a fake smile of sympathy that makes you roll your eyes again. "You're more than welcome to speak with the admissions committee," he suggests, "But they'll more than likely side with me on the matter."  
  
_Wow, what a cocky little shit._  
  
You take a few moments to think about your next move, and once you've decided, an impish smirk pulls at your cherry-tinted lips. You slowly stand to your feet, but you don't go for the door like your professor might have assumed. With an extra sway to your hips, you round the large desk to stand beside the gorgeous man's chair, feigning innocence as you pull yourself up to sit atop the cool surface of his desk. A small gasp leaves your parted lips as the chill meets your heated thighs where your uniform skirt has fanned out.  
  
" _What_ do you think you're doing?" The professor asks, fiery green eyes trailing up your body until they're locked on yours.  
  
You chuckle seductively as you lean in and grasp the silk of his posh tie. "I'm just trying to come to an agreement," you purr, "I'm sure there's _something_ I can do to make up for my absences, Professor."  
  
The man scoffs with distaste as he pries your fingers off his tie. "In case you aren't aware, Miss Y/L/N," he says as he pushes his chair out and pulls himself up to his feet, "I'm a happily married man."  
  
You smirk, reclining back on your hands and crossing one leg over the other. "And I'm a happily married woman," you say with a shrug, "So what's your point?"  
  
" _You_?" The professor laughs curtly as his eyes narrow humorously, "You're married?"  
  
"It was a straight out of high school kind of thing," you tell him, jumping up off the desk to stand in front of him. "I love my husband _very_ much, Professor, like I'm sure you love your wife," you say as you smooth your hands up his chest, your splayed fingers sliding over the crisp button-up he fills out so well, "But I'll do whatever it takes to make this right."  
  
The professor regards you for a few moments, his look hard and calculating, his hands on his hips and his tongue sliding across his teeth. "Whatever it takes, huh?" He questions, lips twitching with a smothered smirk.  
  
"Yes, sir," you whisper, noticing the way his eyes darken with a wave of lust at the formal reply. He takes a deep, steady breath before stepping forward, his chest now pressed up against yours and his big, strong hands coming up to grab your hips, hard and forceful and fucking delicious as they drag you in even closer. You breathe in his heady scent, all expensive cologne and fresh linen, his lips now grazing yours as he stares into your eyes.  
  
"You sure you wanna do this?" He husks, sliding his hands down to grab your ass through your pleated skirt that stopped just above mid-thigh.  
  
"Positive, sir," you breathe out, tangling your hand in his tie and yanking him forward so his lips crash into yours harshly, the force of the connection making you both moan deeply. You accept his tongue when he slides it along your bottom lip, keening high in your throat when he presses it up against the roof of your mouth and drag it back to lick at the back of your teeth. He tastes so good, and you definitely plan on testing other parts of him.  
  
"You're such a pretty little slut," he growls against your lips, "So naughty for your professor."  
  
"Do you like naughty girls, sir?" You purr, rocking your hips against him and gasping when he goes in for your neck with parted lips and a sinful tongue.  
  
"Depends," he murmurs into your flesh, thrusting back into you, the hard press of his thick cock digging into your lower belly through layers of unwanted fabric.  
  
"On what?" You humor him, sighing when he finds that perfect spot just under your jaw and nibbles at it with perfectly aligned teeth.  
  
Professor Winchester pulls away to look into your eyes. "On how well they can suck my cock," he answers in a sultry rasp, making you moan wantonly. "Is that somethin' you wanna do?" He asks, his hands disappearing under your skirt to trail up the back of your soft thighs. "You wanna get down on those pretty little knees of yours and take my cock into that filthy mouth?"  
  
"Yes, Professor," you reply, all breathy and unabashed, "I want it." You don't give him time to reply as you sink to your knees and go straight for his belt, your eyes looking up into his as you pull the smooth leather from the metal confines with blatant enthusiasm. He works on his shirt and tie as you yank his undone dress slacks down his strong, beautifully bowed legs, leaving them abandoned at his ankles as you hook your fingers into his boxers and purr like a cat who got the milk. You gasp when you pull him free and see his cock for the first time, long and hard and throbbing as it stands erect for you.  
  
"Like what you see, naughty girl?" Professor Winchester asks, combing his fingers through your hair and grinning lasciviously. You hum in agreement, biting your bottom lip as you bring a hand up and wrap it around him, a low moan vibrating in your throat at how hard he is. "Take it," he commands, bucking his hips forward as you let your mouth fall open, "Take every fuckin' inch."  
  
Obediently, you wrap your slick lips around the velvety-smooth head and slide down his shaft until he's buried in your throat, threatening to evoke your gag reflex. "Good _God_ ," he growls, fingers tangling in your locks and tugging harshly, "Look at you, taking me so well, not even batting an eyelash, you filthy girl."   
  
You pull off him panting, drawing in unsteady, gasping pulls of air, moaning and rolling your hips as you lean in and trace your tongue along the underside of him, paying special attention to the vein that runs along the rigid length. This time when you take him into your mouth, Professor Winchester lets loose a few moans and a gasp of your name, gritting his teeth to hold back from being too loud—you _are_ in his office after all, surrounded by other professor offices.  
  
It's not long before you're being yanked back up to your feet by strong hands gripping your upper arms, those same hands stripping you off your uniform shirt as he kicks out of his fancy shoes and pants. "Leave the skirt on," he pants, smirking so sinfully gorgeous that you can't say no, and in a matter of seconds, it's all you're wearing. You watch with an intrigued, curious gaze as he picks your panties up off the ground. "I don't trust you to be quiet," he grins menacingly as he moves to stand beside you, his breathing hot and heavy against your ear when he adds, "So, I'm gonna have to gag you."  
  
Your skin prickles with heat, and without even having to be told, you part your lips for him, glowing with indulgence when he calls you a good girl and shoves your balled up panties into your mouth. You moan around the soft material, sodden with the evidence of your arousal. With some guidance, you're bent over the large desk, your heated skin pressed against the cool, smooth surface sending a shiver down your spine. You're so willing and ready, not even going rigid or fearful when the professor ties your hands behind your back with his silk tie, the knots skillful and giving you no leeway to try and escape—not that you wanted to _anyway_.  
  
"Now," Professor Winchester husks, flipping up your skirt to expose you completely as he falls to his knees behind you, "I'm gonna eat this sweet little pussy 'til you're beggin' for my cock." You cry into the makeshift gag when he spreads you open with his thumbs and goes to town, choosing to skip the unnecessary teasing and go straight for the gold. You stretch up on your tiptoes and flex your thighs as you grind back onto his face, earning you a hot, sharp slap to your ass. "Don't fuckin' move or I'll stop," he warns against your clit, drawing it into his mouth once you've steeled yourself.  
  
You're a puddle of shameless need on his desk, reveling in the thick slide of his tongue through your puffy, slick folds, and basking in the way his moans into your tender flesh like a man starved. He doesn't leave one inch of you untouched, licking, sucking, kissing, and nibbling you in all the right places until you're helplessly screaming into the soaked panties stuffed between your lips and pulling at your binds, having nothing to ground you but the sharp dig of your fingernails into your palms. And Professor Winchester doesn't stop or give you a break until you've come twice more, supplying such an intense onslaught of pleasure that he lets it slide when you can't help but writhe back against his wet, plush mouth as he tongues and slurps every trail of heady wetness that seeps out of you.  
  
"You taste so fuckin' good," he growls as he draws back to see what a mess he's made if you, all swollen and flushed deep pink from the attack of his lips and tongue. He can't help but shove two thick fingers into your fluttering hole, chuckling deep in his throat when you whimper. You’re so needy for more, and for a split second, you wonder if this is supposed to be a punishment—because it sure as hell feels _way_ too good to be one. "You want my cock now?" He husks, sinking his teeth into the meat of your ass, smirking into it impishly when you let out muffled _please!_  
  
The professor stands to his feet and slides into you while freeing your hands from his tie, burying himself deep as you arch your back and roll against him. He curls his hands around your shoulders and tugs you up off the desk forcefully, grunting when your back meets his chest. You eat it up like candy, being manhandled into position as he fists one hand in your hair and rolls your sensitive nipples with the other, listening as you moan like a pornstar behind your panty gag.  
  
The rhythm of his hips is anything but gentle when he starts moving, his thick cock pillaging through your walls like it's where he belongs, like it's where he's _always_ been destined to be. Your entire body burns with desire, with the want and need to be fucked like the dirty girl you are. And he reminds you just how dirty you are by whispering beautiful filth into your ear as he fucks into you roughly. "Is this what you wanted? To get fucked like a dirty little slut by your professor. Such a good girl for me, taking my cock like this. Gonna fuck your eager little cunt so good you think of me every time you fuck your husband, gonna think of _my_ cock when he's pushing up into you at night."  
  
Fiery heat engulfs you when he shoves a hand between your thighs and pinches your throbbing clit between two of his rough fingers, moving them side to side a couple of times before rubbing at you quickly. "Look at you," he husks, "Panties stuffed in your mouth and my cock buried deep inside you. That feel good, baby?"   
  
You chant a smothered "Yes! Yes! Yes!" as you meet him thrust for thrust, tossing your head back into his shoulder, your hands clinging to his forearm where it's braced around your middle just under your breasts. Your eyes roll in your sockets, so close to another release that you can feel it in your toes, a burning heat scorching your blood and making your heart hammer against your ribcage.   
  
The small office is filled with the lewd, repetitive slap of his hips meeting your ass and your muffled cries, mingling with the steady string of colorful profanities pushing past Professor Winchester's parted lips. "You gonna come for me again, pretty girl?" He murmurs into the crook of your neck, his tongue licking at the salty sweat that's built up on your skin. "I can feel you clenching," he groans, "So c'mon, come good and hard for me one more time, and I'll fill your needy little cunt up with my load."  
  
"Fuck!" You scream, muffled but loud, your body growing rigid as wave after wave of pleasure crashes around inside you, your legs trembling and your chest heaving as you moan and whimper and gasp. It's intense and wonderful, and somewhere in the middle of your release, the gushing heat of the professor coming inside you makes you smile and sink your teeth into your ruined panties.  
  
When you've both caught your breath, Professor Winchester lets you fall back down against the desk, his hands there to make sure you don't fall _too_ hard. He peppers the back of your neck and shoulders in gentle kisses, his hands gliding up your sides as you steady your breathing. He helps you get dressed again before dressing himself, cheekily sneaking your spit-soaked panties into the front pocket of his slacks.  
  
"Think I'll keep these," he tells you, running his thumb along your bottom lip before dipping inside your mouth and pressing the pad of it against your tongue. You moan around his finger, releasing it with a smug pop and a smile.  
  
"So we're good then, Professor?" You ask, batting your eyes and feigning innocence.  
  
"For now," he smirks, "But the next time you miss my class, I won't be so lenient."  
  
You hum approvingly, leaning into him until your lips brush his ear. "I can't wait," you purr, "Maybe next time I'll let you throw me over your lap and spank me for being such a _bad girl_."  
  
The professor chuckles deep and rich, grabbing your upper arms and tugging you away from his ear so he can press a hot kiss to your lips, licking into your mouth and showing you _just_ how much he likes the idea.  
  
"See you later, Professor," you wink as you walk towards his office door  
  
"Behave, Miss Y/L/N," he warns as he takes a seat back at his desk, readjusting his tie and smoothing down his rumpled dress shirt.  
  
"No promises!" You say, waving a hand over your shoulder as you retreat from the room, a satisfied smile on your lips the entire walk to your car.

* * *

  
  
You gather up a few of the grocery store bags from the trunk of your car and walk up the steps of your porch to the front door of your home. You fiddle with your keys, propping the paper bags on your hip as you unlock the door and push it open.  
  
"Honey, I'm home!" You call out, "And I have a carload of groceries, so a little _help_ would be nice!" You smile when a familiar face comes into view, a shining pair of emerald eyes and freckle-dusted cheeks making your heart skip a beat. He's long since changed out of his fancy professional clothes, and is now dressed in a casual t-shirt and a well loved pair of jeans. "Hi, baby," you greet him with a quick kiss, "How was your day?"  
  
"Exhausting to say the least," he smirks, "I had to meet with a student after my first class this morning."  
  
"Oh? Well, did it go good?" You ask with a knowing grin.  
  
" _Very_ good," he husks, moving in and pressing a firmer kiss to your lips. "Where in the _hell_ did you get an exact replica of the student uniform?" He asks, taking the bags from your arms and giving you an amused look.  
  
"Now, Dean," you scold him playfully, "A girl never reveals her secrets. You _said_ you wanted to live out the teacher-student fantasy, so I made a few calls."  
  
"You amaze me, ya know that?" He smiles, "After all these years, you still know how to rock my world."  
  
"Anything for my wonderful hubby," you smile back, "Maybe later we can fulfill some of _my_ fantasies."  
  
Dean smirks, setting the bags down on the floor and sweeping you up into his arms. "Like what?" He asks, ghosting his lips up the side of your neck.  
  
"Well," you giggle at the tickle of his five-day beard, "I've always wanted to fuck a police officer."  
  
"Is that so?" He husks against the sensitive spot just under your ear.   
  
"Mhmm," you hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and tugging him closer, "You can read me my rights then handcuff me to the bed."  
  
"Jesus," he groans, "You're gonna kill me."  
  
"It'll be pleasurable, I promise," you chuckle, reluctantly pulling away from him. "But first, there's a car full of groceries that are calling your name," you say with a smile, "I'm making your favorite tonight."  
  
"Pie?" He grins.  
  
"What else is there?" You scoff and roll your eyes.  
  
Dean smirks as he says, "You."


End file.
